Operation: What the Hell?
by Allyxandra Hunter
Summary: The universes work in ways unknown to most. Worlds have a funny way of colliding. And, fates have a sick sense of humor. Currently being Edited.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: I own neither Alex Rider, nor Doctor Who.**

.oOo.

The universes work in ways unknown to most. And worlds have a funny way of colliding...

.oOo.

**Inside The TARDIS**

The Doctor and Donna were thrown to the ground as the TARDIS made a sharp jolting motion. Lights started flashing and sounds were coming, sounding like everything was going haywire.

"What the hell did you do _this _time?" yelled Donna from her position on the floor.

"I didn't do anything!" the Doctor protested. "At least, I don't think I did," he muttered. Getting to his feet, he went to the controls. To Donna, it looked like he was pressing random buttons. In fact, he was actually trying to track down what was happening. "Impossible! We've changed course!"

"And that's bad?"

"How did this happen, girl?" Doctor asked the TARDIS, stroking it gently.

"Would you quite petting your spaceship, and fix whatever the hell is happening?" screamed Donna.

"This has only happened once before!" He turned at looked at her. "With you and the huon particles." The Doctor paused, glancing upwards towards the ceiling of the TARDIS. "Someone is calling to the TARDIS. And she's going to them. We're stuck here for the ride."

.oOo.

**On Board the Dalek Spaceship**

"Brothers! The time is approaching!" screeched the leader of the Daleks. "The time has come for us to descend upon Earth."

This announcement was met with cheers. Well, it sounded like cheers, but it was the best the Dalek could do.

"Not even the Doctor can stop us now!"

The cheers were louder now.

"But, first, we must find one. This is the one who will help us."

The chamber grew silent.

"Find the son of the Hunter. Bring him to me. Exterminate anyone who gets in your way!"

"Exterminate!" "Exterminate!"

.oOo.

**Alex Rider's House, Chelsea, England**

Alex walked up the front steps of the house he'd lived in for fifteen years. He yawned. It'd been a long night.

He'd gotten back from another mission nearly a week ago. And, he'd just been allowed back to school yesterday. Jack had made him stay home, try to recuperate. After school today, Alex had gone over to Tom's house. They'd played Black Ops for hours, barely stopping for dinner.

Grudgingly, Alex had been forced to go home by Mrs. Harris round 9:30. After all, it was a school night.

Sighing, he trudged through the rain to the front door and hid under the porch. _Where are my keys?_ Alex searched his pocket, turning them inside out to reveal nothing. _Damn. Well, hopefully, Jack hasn't gone to bed yet._

He knocked on the door. "Jack? It's Alex!" he called. "Can you let me in? Please. C'mon, Jack. It's raining! Do me a favor and let me in!"

No one answered. On a whim, Alex tried the handle. Surprisingly, it opened. _Jack always locks the door..._

"Jack? It's me. Alex," he called out again. "Don't do this to me, Jack. This isn't funny." Walking down the hall, he looked into the living room. The T.V. was on, but no Jack.

"Jack… Where are you? I don't know about Americans and your senses of humor, but we Brits don't find this funny…"

Then, he looked in the kitchen. Alex didn't know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't what he found.

Jack lay in the middle of the kitchen, a neat little bullet hole through her head. She laid in a puddle of blood. Her blood. On the floor next to her was a scorpion, painted on the tile in silver paint.

SCORPIA.

Alex collapsed to his knees. They had hit him where it hurt the most- the one family member he had left. Grief swept through his body, and he fought to stay conscious. He walked to the phone and dialed the emergency number MI6 had given him.

"Alex?" Mrs. Jones' voice came over the receiver. "Is everything all right?"

"Jack's dead."

.oOo.

... And the fates have a sick sense of humor.

**What do you think? Like it? Absolutely hate it? Better tell me so I can improve!**

**Please and thank-you.**

****EDIT. This story has been renovated. I suggest rereading this chapter because there is something crucial that was edited. Please and thank-you.**


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story besides the idea... That hopefully, you've caught onto by now.**

The ensuing conversation was short and ended with a promise to send a couple of agents immediately.

Alex went to hang the phone back up, but that would require reentering the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, he walked through the doorway again. He kept his eyes averted as he skirted around Jack's body. Putting the phone back in its cradle, Alex saw something that'd escaped his notice before. Probably because he was distracted by the body, but that was just his opinion.

It was an old pocket watch, silver chain and all. Something about it drew Alex forward. Picking it up, he recognized it. Ian had always carried it around. Alex even remembered the first time he asked about it…

…

_Seven-year-old_ _Alex and Ian were taking a run around the park. Jack had declined, saying that "they needed some guy time before Ian left the country again"._

_Slowly, Alex was getting out of breath, but he didn't voice this aloud. He wanted to show Ian that he could keep up._

_Ian was impressed with his nephew but still noticed the kid getting breathless. He slowed to a walk, letting Alex follow his example and relax and catch his breath._

_They continued walking silently down the sidewalk. However, they just happened to be passing an ice cream parlor._

"_Ian? Can we get some ice cream?" Alex asked, eager yet still polite. "Please?" he tacked on._

_The older man looked down at his nephew, who was in turn looking up at him with big eyes. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck. Ian never was all that good with kids._

"_Ian? Please? Pretty please with sugar on top?" begged Alex. He knew he was whining, but he didn't care. All Alex wanted was ice cream. Knowing the full powers of cute-child manipulation, Alex pulled out the big guns._

_Ian looked at Alex again. Now, the child was looking up at him with what all adults know as the dreaded "puppy-dog" look. He couldn't resist the full-out "pity me" vibe Alex was giving off._

"_Fine. We can get some ice cream," he consented._

"_YES!" cheered Alex, with a fist-pump in the air._

_A bell chimed as they walked through the front door. Alex practically drug Ian to the counter, and stood there, bouncing up and down. There, a teenage girl smiled at them. Her name tag read 'Rose'. "Hello. What can I get for you two today?"_

_Ian looked at Alex. The little boy was dancing around like he had ants in his pants. Obviously, he was beyond excited. "Alex, what do you want?"_

"_Um," Alex froze, thinking hard. "Can I have a double-scoop chocolate cone with gummy bears? Please?"_

_Closing his eyes, Ian couldn't help but shaking his head. His nephew was so weird sometimes. Just like John._

"_And how bout you, sir?" asked the blonde behind the counter. She looked at him with a smile, laughing at Alex's cuteness._

"_Uh, a small vanilla cone," ordered Ian. Sweet and simple._

_After paying and getting their orders, Alex and Ian went over to a booth. As Ian slid into his seat, something fell out of his pocket._

_Alex picked it up. "Ian, what's this?" he asked, with curiosity normal for an seven-year-old._

"_It's a pocket watch, Alex," his uncle explained. Holding out his hand, he inquired, "May I please have it back?"_

_The boy nodded and set it in Ian's hand. There was silence as the two ate their ice cream. But Alex had to break it. "Why do you carry a pocket watch around if you already have another watch on your wrist?"_

_Ian sighed. "It was your father's and he trusted me with it. I never go anywhere without it."_

"_That was Dad's?"_

_It was Ian's turn to nod this time._

_Alex opened his mouth to speak, to ask more questions, but something in Ian's expression stopped him. He just sat there, calmly licking his cone, wondering about the watch that Ian never let go. Maybe they would– _

…

Alex shook his head. No use remembering the past now. Not when the future was so much more important. He slipped the watch into the pocket of his jeans, and slipped out of the kitchen again.

There was a light tap on the front door. Alex's head whipped round, towards it. Was that the help already? Should he answer it?

Probably not. Unless it was help. Or a friend. But how would he know that? He wouldn't look through the peephole; someone could be waiting on the other side for him to do just that with a weapon, ready to kill.

Instead of opening the door, he crept around to the window next to it. It was open just a bit, so he could hear the people on his front steps.

"Move over; I don't want to get wet," said a man.

"Oh, no. You wouldn't want to get a bit of rain on you," retorted a woman, who snorted. "It might ruin your suit."

As far as Alex could tell, there were only two people outside. But he couldn't be sure, could he?

This time, someone banged on the door quite loudly. "Oi! Open up in there!" yelled the woman.

"Donna, you can't do that!" the man exclaimed.

"And why not?"

"It's not–"

But Alex had heard enough. He crossed back to the door and opened it, figuring any assassin sent to finish off the job would've been quieter.

"Oh!" breathed the man. "Hello. Um…"

"Are you two the agents from the Bank?" Alex cut straight to the chase. After all, Mrs. Jones had promised to send a couple to help.

The man and the woman looked at each other. "Yeah," replied the woman. "That's us. Donna Noble and uh…"

"John Smith." The man stuck out his hand for Alex to shake, yet Alex just stared at it. Slowly, the man called John Smith retracted his hand. "Right, so if we could just step inside, if you haven't noticed, it's raining out here and–"

"Can I see your badges, then?" asked Alex. He wasn't sure of these two; something seemed off. He would need this extra bit of comfort, even though some organization could just as easily make some false badges… No. Alex would cross that bridge if it appeared.

"Of course!" Smith dug around in the pockets of his trench coat and produced a wallet-looking thing. He flipped it open and showed it to Alex. "Agents John Smith and Donna Noble at your service. Now, if we could just take a look around–" He tried to take a step inside, but Alex cut him off. The boy shut the door a little farther and stood, blocking the gap.

"Is this some type of joke?"

Another shared look between the two strangers. "No, not at–" began the woman called Donna Noble.

"Then who are you, really?" questioned Alex. He looked suspiciously at the two and was beginning to wish he'd grabbed a weapon so he wouldn't be as totally defenseless.

"Like he said, Agents Donna Noble and John Smith. See?" Noble pointed to the paper the man was still holding in his hand. "It says so right on there."

"No, it doesn't."

"What?" asked Smith. He looked at the paper himself, to check.

"That paper's blank."

**So, whaddya think? Sorry bout the delay, but I had a lack of creative flowation, creative stiflation... NOT WRITER'S BLOCK!**

**I was just about to put down "read and review", but if you've gotten this far, you've obviously already read it! Silly me!**

**There's just one little part left, and you all know what it is... *Drumroll* … Oh, just figure it out!**

****EDIT. You'll want to reread this chapter; major renovations done to it. Chapter Three shall be coming shortly. I won't wait a whole year before updating again, promise.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Not mine as of yet.**

.oOo.

"That's impossible," murmured the man masquerading as John Smith. He held the paper up to look at it better. "It's psychic paper; it doesn't go _blank_."

_Psychic paper?_ thought Alex. "Uh-huh, well, great meeting you, but, bye." And with that, he shut the door in their faces, locking it quickly. It was then that he looked around hastily for a weapon, any kind that might help in a fight. He wasn't sure if he'd have to fight his way out of here, or if the cavalry would actually arrive in time for once. Pausing, Alex considered that option. Then, he shook his head. Not likely. He was on his own for now.

_None in here… Maybe in the kitchen- No. Not in there again. Upstairs, then._

And so up Alex Rider went.

.oOo.

"Brilliant, Doctor," said Donna, her tone oozing sarcasm. "Now we're stuck on somebody's front porch, in the rain, with no idea what we're doing here."

But the man paid her no attention. Instead, he had his sonic screwdriver out, holding it close to his ear, as if listening to something. "The TARDIS was drawn here," he muttered to himself. The Doctor looked up at the sky. "Why would it be brought here?"

"I dunno," replied Donna, "But what I do know is that it ain't getting any warmer out here. Or drier, for that matter."

"Right." The Doctor turned and looked back at the door. "I have a feeling there's more to this boy than meets the eye."

"I know, not many people call your bluff on the first time," Donna quipped.

He chose to ignore his partner for the time being and instead focused the sonic device towards the house. "The signal that summoned the TARDIS came from inside." He looked at the door. "Somehow, we've got to get in."

.oOo.

There was a loud crashing noise, which made Alex's head snap up. Was there someone in the house? Empty-handed, seeing as he'd yet to find anything, the teen made his way towards the top of the staircase.

"Check the upstairs," came a mechanical voice. "The boy must be here somewhere." Alex froze, thinking, _What the hell?_

There was a whirring noise and a shadow appeared, coming up the stairs. It didn't look like a person, but even shadows could be deceiving, so Alex began to quickly process his escape options. That was when the front door burst open, nearly breaking off its hinges.

"I told you to let me get it!" came the voice of the man from earlier. The one who had pretended to be John Smith.

"And I told you that I could do it," the woman answered. _Donna Noble_, thought Alex. That had been her name she'd given.

"The Doctor!" There was that screeching mechanical voice again. "Exterminate them!"

And there was Alex, caught up in the middle of all of this, crouching by the banister. Near the back of his mind, there was a small part of him that kept him functioning. Scanning.

The downstairs was blocked off. There'd be no getting out that way. He looked over his shoulders. Maybe a window? The second story windows would be painful to jump out of, but it was preferable to running through that downstairs. Especially without a weapon.

As Alex nearly crawled to his bedroom, a loud explosion came from downstairs. "Up the stairs!" cried the unknown man. There were loud thuds as the man and woman sprinted up the stairs and whirled around the corner. Alex stood up and slipped into his room, not bothering to shut the door. He'd be out soon enough. Quickly, he opened the window and punched out the screen.

"Exterminate! Exterminate!" The robotic voices were getting closer- coming up the stairs?

It caused the woman to throw a panicked look over her shoulder. "Doctor!" she hissed.

"I know, I know!" the man said, running a hand through his hair. It was the combination of fear on her face and her red hair that made Alex stop. Was that similar to how Jack looked when she had died? With that thought in his head, he couldn't bring himself to leave the two of them.

"Over here!" Alex whispered, loud enough for the two of them to hear. Their heads whipped up and they saw him. "Come on!" he gestured. Quickly, they made their way over to him, and he shut his bedroom door behind them. "Excuse the mess," he joked before moving back to the window.

"What are you doing?" asked the woman, incredulously, as Alex swung one leg over the windowsill.

"Getting out of here. You're welcome to follow. Unless you'd rather meet your friends out there." As if on cue, there was a laser shot and a hole appeared in the door. "Follow my lead," the teen urged. And, with that, he dropped from the windowsill, hitting the ground and rolling onto one knee. He winced slightly as pain radiated up his knee. He turned and looked back up at the window, where the two were still standing, looking at him like he was crazy.

"You want us to do that?" called the woman.

"Yeah! Just try to land in a crouch or roll!" Alex yelled back up to her.

"You're insane!"

The man looked over his shoulder, then back at his partner. Shrugging, he copied Alex's maneuver, rolling until he came to a complete stop. Then, he quickly stood up and ran to underneath the window. "Jump, Donna! I'll catch you!"

"Like hell you will!" But still, she leapt out and he did manage to stop her fall. It took them both down to the ground, yet they were up quickly.

Alex shot a glance towards the window, where two… garbage cans stood? "What the hell?" The teen verbalized his confusion.

"Run!" shouted the man, sprinting towards Alex, the woman close on his heels. You didn't have to tell the teenager twice. All three of them took off, through several neighbors' backyards and onto the next street. As they decided no one was chasing them, they began to slow. The woman was panting slightly from their sprint, and Alex's knee was sending death threats to his brain for putting it through that. Only the man looked completely unfazed. He looked at Alex, as if silently appraising him.

"What the hell were we just running from?" demanded Alex, pushing the pain back.

The other two shared a look and silently agreed on something. "Daleks," said the man. He turned down an alleyway, and the woman followed him. As Alex rounded the corner, all he saw at the end of the alley was an old, blue police box. Instantly, he was wary. A trap?

They seemed to sense that he had stopped. Turning around, the woman called out, "What's the matter?"

"Who _are_ you two? What the hell is a Dalek? What is going on here, for crying out loud?" Alex didn't like the tone in his voice; it made him seem like he was a little kid, demanding answers. Which, in a sense, he was. Demanding answers, that is, not acting like a little kid.

The man unlocked the door of the police box before turning around. The door itself swung open as he spoke. "I'm the Doctor. She's Donna Noble. A Dalek is an alien, and they were, for some reason, at your house, which we were called to, as well. Now, are you coming with?"

Alex's head swam. Aliens? Only one thought was able to push through the confusion, and he voiced it. "What?"

"It's a long story," said the woman. Donna Noble, apparently. She moved past the Doctor and went into the police box.

The Doctor shrugged and stepped inside the box, too. There was a moment, as Alex stood frozen at the mouth of the alley. Then, the man popped his head back out. "Aren't you coming?"

Before he could think, Alex's feet moved him towards the box. How had they both fit in there? Then, he thought about his night so far. Two strangers showed up with 'psychic paper', his house was attacked by overgrown, talking garbage cans and they had tried to kill him. Surely, this couldn't be any weirder.

…And then he stepped into the police box.

**All right, folks, here's the third chapter. A lot time waiting, I know. Maybe the fourth one will come out quickly. Maybe it'll take this long again… Want a say in the speed of the next chapter? You must review.**

**However, there is something I must add here. I enjoy the reviews. I really do. But one's like 'update soon' or just telling me to update aren't as satisfying as ones that tell me what you like, what you hate. If you're going to take the time to review, at least take the time to write a good one.**

**See y'all next time.**


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